rSlash - r/Tifu by Shaving My Butt

Episode Date: December 2, 2024

0:00 Intro 0:05 Gas 1:26 Bathroom break 8:02 Pre workout 10:54 Shaving 15:11 Comment 15:28 Flirting Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Welcome to R slash Today I F'd Up where OP has radioactive farts. Today I F'd Up by passing gas on the dance floor. I'm a woman in my mid 30s. Last night I went out for a Halloween dance party. I worked really hard on my costume. I was the perfect combination of warm and slutty and I was excited to strut my stuff. The way this bar is set up is there's a main level upstairs and then you can walk downstairs to go to the dance area. It's a pretty small place so it gets crowded. I'd taken some mushrooms earlier in the evening and I was feeling good.

At some point in the night I had to cut the cheese. I thought that it would be a small one. I thought that I could just cropdust it, but it was the most silent, deadly, toxic, foul, mushroom stink bomb of my life. The smell from my butthole destroyed the dance floor. People cleared out. It was so bad that people thought someone had an accident on the dance floor. Like they turned up the lights a bit to see and make sure there wasn't a health hazard. Even

the DJ made a comment. I went upstairs because I couldn't stand the smell of my own butt. I was up there for about 30 minutes and when I came back down I could still smell my own butt. It's all anybody could talk about. They thought someone had an accident. I had to play dumb. I was so embarrassed. Today I effed up by taking a bathroom break during a date. So this happened over 10 years ago, but it still gets me nauseated when I think about it. I just started college and I was on a full scholarship after working hard and completing many interviews and references to get this highly competitive scholarship. In one of my classes, there was a stunningly

beautiful woman who came to me asking questions all the time about the course that we were in, and we also ended up being study partners in some group tasks. I was very much attracted to her, and she seemed to enjoy my company, so one day I asked her out to a dinner date and to my delight she accepted. Being a poor college kid, I didn't have much money. But I didn't want to go to a horrible chain restaurant, so I booked a restaurant in the next town that had decent reviews but hopefully wasn't overly expensive. The dinner was going well, we were having a very animated conversation and the food was very good.

The restaurant was almost empty, except for another large group of people on the other side of the restaurant. But I was a bit nervous about how much the bill would be and I didn't want to get caught not being able to pay the bill. But alas, this was the least of my problems to come. The other big group of people on the other side of the restaurant had one uncontrolled child approximately 3 or 4 years old running around unsupervised. The waitress was getting really upset with the child and the group because he was disturbing

other tables and pulling cutlery from other tables, and the parents didn't seem to be concerned with his behavior. But he wasn't really disturbing me as I was having a great time with my date and I ignored the kids antics. My date and I ordered dessert and I excused myself to go to the bathroom. While I was in the bathroom, I could hear the small child making motorbike noises running around in the bathroom for a few seconds before exiting. I didn't see him because I was facing the urinal, and he had left by the time that I turned around

to wash my hands. I proceeded back to my table when Dessert had just been served. During Dessert, my date commented that the other table where the child belongs to seemed to be staring at us in a funny way. My back was to them, but again, I was having a great time time and I didn't care if another group was staring at us or not. After we finished dessert, I was surprised to see the restaurant lit up with blue and red lights of a police car. A lady from the other table, which I then learned was the mother of the child, went out to meet with the cops and then led them to my table and pointed at me and said, Here's the man who assaulted my son. I was completely shocked. I told the child's

mother that I had absolutely nothing to do with her son and I never spoke to him or even touched him. She told the cops that I exposed myself to her child while he was in the bathroom. She explained to the cops that her son said to her, I saw that man's wee. When I walked past their table from the bathroom. She explained to the cops that her son said to her, I saw that man's wee when I walked past their table from the bathroom. There were two police officers, one male, one female. The male officer led me outside for more questioning and the female stayed inside talking to the mother. I explained to the cops that when I went to the bathroom, I heard the kid come into the bathroom for a few seconds, but I didn't even see him and he was gone by the time I washed my hands. I never spoke to the kid come into the bathroom for a few seconds, but I didn't even see him,

and he was gone by the time I washed my hands. I never spoke to the kid, talked to him, or even looked at him in the bathroom. The police officer took notes, and the female officer came out and advised that I was under arrest and they would take me to the police station for further investigation. The mother was at the front of the restaurant yelling at me that I was a pervert and I needed to be locked up. My date made a brief statement to the police. She ended up paying and catching a cab home and I got a free ride to the police station. At the police station, the officer advised that according to the mother, the child used the word

we as a euphemism for my member, and the mother had made a formal complaint that I exposed myself to the child while I was in the bathroom. I gave my own statement advising that I was going to the bathroom, the mother was not there, and yes, the child must have seen my back while I was urinating, as that's what I was doing in the toilet at the time. There was no way that he saw my member in the few seconds that he ran in unsupervised and out. Nevertheless, the police charged me with indecent exposure to a child under 12. This being a small town, I got locked up for the weekend because there was no judge available to grant bail on the weekends.

I rang my father explaining the situation and he arranged a lawyer to appear with me on Monday. I basically had no sleep for two and a half days in the lockup and I was still wearing my restaurant clothes for my Monday court appearance. My lawyer petitioned the judge for the charges to be dropped because if we locked up everyone who went to a public bathroom in the presence of someone under the age of 12, then we would have to lock up the whole country. The judge agreed and the charges were dropped and I could go home. But the damage had been done. My date told her girlfriends what happened as if she was the victim

of a horror date and then her friends told the whole college that I exposed myself to young children. The next day, everyone was staring at me in class, and some people came up to me asking what happened, and some people no longer went near me or talked to me because the rumor mill was on fire. My date never spoke to me again. Two weeks later, I had to stand in front of the college board and had to defend an honor code violation because my scholarship was now in jeopardy.

Though I was cleared, this incident hung like a dark cloud over my time in college being a social outcast, and it severely curtailed my social and professional life in my early 20s, not to mention having a hefty legal bill being sent to my parents. Alright, this story is the perfect, perfect example of why you should never ever under any circumstances talk to the police. You know, I mean, when you're a suspect anyways. Because yeah, it seems very natural to say, oh, I was just in there peeing and it doesn't seem like that could possibly hurt you.

But OP admitted that he was in the bathroom at the same time as his other kid. If he had just kept his mouth shut and not said anything, then the cops would have had to actually prove that he and the kid were in the bathroom at the same time and in that case he may have never even been arrested in the first place. So guys, for real, no matter how innocent you think the information you're giving to the cops is, it can and will be used against, as it was in OP's case. Today I effed up by taking pre-workout before a run and almost dying. If you don't know, pre-workout is a highly caffeinated powder.

People often take it before workouts, like I always have, to give them the motivation they need. Anyways, I took 1.5 scoops as I normally do and went outside for a run on a particularly hot day. At the end of the run, I felt weak and my chest was clenching with pain. Upon arriving at the gas station to get a Gatorade, I realized something wasn't right. I stumbled inside and grabbed the shirt of an attendant to say, please stay with me, I don't think I'm okay.

My body was shaking, my vision narrowed, and the pain grew nearer. They gave me some water and talked with me to calm down. Eventually, I felt well enough to go to my parents' house. After half an hour at my parents' house, nothing was better and I realized that I might actually be dying. My heart rate had not slowed down, my breath was shortening, and my chest felt like it was collapsing. I calmly looked at my mother and suggested, alright, I believe now is the time that we go to the emergency room.

We pull up to the ER and I stumbled inside the same way that you would if you were drunk. I politely tell the receptionist, I need to be seen soon as I'm having what must be a heart attack. She hands me a form to fill out, which I'm having what must be a heart attack. She hands me a form to fill out, which I make it about a third of the way through. My mind isn't cooperating and I have no strength to write anything down. The portion where it asked for my name was chicken scratch and I couldn't for the life of me remember my birthday. She motions someone to come collect me from the back urgently, but I was too embarrassed

to go with them without having properly filled out a simple form. No, no, let me fill out another one, I said. They kindly waited with worried looks until I dropped the pen and said, well, we'll just have to do this later. When I get back to the ER, I'm writhing in pain. Nothing is lowering my heart rates. Some punk comes in asking if I would like to pay it all once for a discounted rate or on a monthly basis. I ask him if we can please consider these things later. About two hours pass and a few injections of something or another later, they tell me

that I'm fine but that I have a fairly rare heart condition called Wolf-Parkinson-White Syndrome which had been excited by the stimulants and could have ended very poorly. I had taken pre-workout my entire life and I had never known how close I always was to death. The doctor explained that until I get surgery, every time I take stimulants like that, I'm basically flipping a coin on my life. So while I am an unusual case, I encourage everyone to reconsider taking such supplements

and to not be so concerned with properly filling out the welcome form when going to the emergency room. Today I effed up by shaving my butt. I'm a dude. I got a little carried away with personal grooming time. My usual mindset is along the lines of, trim the grass but don't scorch the earth, and I'm not really into body shaving. But I had the brilliant idea that maybe a non-hairy butt might be something nice to

explore so on a whim, I decided to give it a go. I failed to take into consideration what a MASSIVE undertaking this would turn out to be. Even if you're normal sized, your butt is bigger than you think. It's not like shaving your face, where there's a relatively small amount of surface that needs actual shaving. A butt represents a decent sized parcel of real estate. And even if you're not super hairy, the hair is probably widespread, which means you probably have to shave the whole thing. With my face, I got maybe two or three swipes of the razor before I had to rinse off the

blade. With my butt, as it turns out, I get about half a swipe before the razor is full. And I mean full in a, rinse it off, oops, that didn't work, I guess I'm gonna have to swipe backwards against a washcloth or towel and then rinse it off some more kind of way. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to throw out this washcloth because even after washing it, it still has the appearance of my grandparent shag carpet. Also, even if you're flexible, your butt's kind of difficulty positioned and awkward to reach. I had to keep reminding myself which way I was going, and at some point, I developed a very real fear that I was accidentally going to do a sideways swipe instead of a vertical

swipe, which would be disastrous for obvious reasons. Then, at some point, you have to make a decision. Am I only shaving the outside, or do I go, uh, between the pages? In my ongoing brilliance, I decided that shaving just the outer cheeks would only serve to make the inside appear that much hairier, so I parted the fold and continued inward. This, it turns out, is a different undertaking altogether. Skin that never sees the light of day is understandably much more sensitive. Also, by this time, I was sweating from nervousness, and it certainly didn't help that I now had the potential to lose my grip on the razor. It took probably 45 minutes altogether, and by the time

that I finished this somewhat harrowing project, I was feeling pretty accomplished. I wasn't done, however, with my bad string of decisions. Aftershave was a terrible, horrible idea. I only had a minute or two of enjoying my nice, smooth butt before I decided something along the lines of, now let's make this smooth skin feel like someone set it on fire. It took a solid half hour for the burning sensation to subside. And by then, there was no real enjoyment over my achievement, just a relief that my butt was no longer ablaze. And that brings us to the final experience, which is the ongoing consequence of this particular

grooming experiment. You know how each of us sort of learns the best way to position yourself so you can sifle a fart? Shaving your butt changes all that drastically. You can never fart quietly with a shaved butt, and I do mean never. About an hour or so after I finished, I dropped a normal-sized fart without really thinking about it. Hahaha! The sound hahaha visibly startled me. It was like someone fired a machine gun in an echo chamber. Anyone with an earshot will clearly hear the unmistakable sound of your butt cheeks slapping against each other. And without hair to provide an easy exit,

you'll feel the little gas bubbles as they slowly work their way up your butt crack, kinda like the carbonation bubbles on a sprite that you've poured into a glass. Every fart since then has been a very similar experience, and I now suspect this will continue until the hair grows back. I guess it was worth doing in the sense of, well, now I know what that was like, but I can't say I recommend the experience, and I'm certainly never planning to do it again.

Alright, I've got to read this top comment from Arthur Dent Towels. Wait until you go for a poop and it just rockets out instead of getting tangled up like Tarzan after a few jungle beers. Cleanup is easier too because you don't have to try to wipe poop from the equivalent of Chewbacca's beard. I do agree that farts afterwards are like a round of applause. Today I effed up by accidentally flirting with my eye doctor. So I just switched to a new eye doctor because my old one retired. My first appointment with Dr. Cooper went fine until he had me in that exam chair, leaning in super close to adjust the machine for my eye test.

Naturally, it's awkward having someone so close to your face, so I nervously blurted, wow, you have really nice eyes. The compliment came out way too sincere, and he kinda chuckled awkwardly before just saying, thanks? I felt my face turn bright red. I promised myself I wouldn't say anything weird again. Fast forward to my second appointment. Determined to stay professional, I tried to keep things polite and neutral.

But right as he was doing that close-up eye exam with the flashlight, I realized I had been staring right back into his eyes. The silence was heavy and I could feel the tension, but I couldn't look away without making it weird. So I panicked and said the first thing that came to my mind, which happened to be, Do you come here often? He paused, looked a little confused, and then started to laugh before catching himself and clearing his throat.

Yes, yes I do, actually, he managed. I wanted to disappear right then and there. Safe to say, I might need to find a new eye doctor. OP, I love how you said, I couldn't look away without making it weird, so your response was to make it even weirder. Nice save, OP. That was r slash today i effed up, and if you liked this content be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new reddit podcast episodes every single day.